The Crime Lord
by KingHenry
Summary: COMPLETE. My take on the 'Wrong Boy Who Lived' tale. Harry's brother Aiden is hailed as the 'Boy Who Lived.' Harry, meanwhile, is in the remains of the Potters' hut, crushed under a large boulder- but it isn't that easy to kill a Master of the Elements. Around the same time, a powerful organization of child mercenaries rises in the north... !Powerful Harry. T for violence.
1. Prologue

**A/N everybody's got to have one of these 'Wrong Boy Who Lived' stories. Here's my take.**

The Dark Lord fell screaming, clutching desperately at the air; he felt himself go limp, felt his very soul ripped out of his body-

His once-sharp eyes lost their color; his mind went blank; his body shriveled. Lord Voldemort died confused, in tremendous agony, with a heartful of hatred and a mindful of malice.

James and Lily raced up the spiral staircase, screaming and shouting. They'd heard the high laugh, the shrill scream, the bloodcurdling shriek…

They found the nursery demolished; the wall had caved outward, sending bricks flying through the well-manicured lawn. Pieces of debris littered the floor, but the two didn't care; they ran barefoot through the minefield of glass and concrete to the two cribs, their minds racing.

A massive, gaping hole appeared where the second crib should have been. Lily gave a small gasp, James a cry of despair. Smoke and dust wafted out of the crater, filling the house with incense. "No...NO! Harry! HARRY!" The two stood for a while, unmoving, in a state of shock and abject terror. A large, concrete boulder suddenly tumbled through the air- Lily lashed out desperately at it, waving her wand- "_Wingardium Leviosa! WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!_"

_Crack._ The stone crushed what remained of the crib- and what remained of the small boy within. "No, no, no, no, no!" James muttered, leaping through the hole, struggling to pick up the massive weight. He rolled the stone to one side and stared, his eyes disbelieving-

Wooden splinters filled the gap; small bits of blood and bone appeared among the dust and ashes. James bent, picking up the flaky mess, tears forming in his brown eyes-

For the first time in fifteen years, he cried. Heavy tears watered the remains of his second son, spilling onto the ground below. He sat there for awhile, rooted to the spot, unable to think, unable to process.

"James. James!" Lily shouted. "Aiden… he's hurt, bad." The man reluctantly dropped what remained of his second son. With a heavy heart, he climbed back through the roof. The second crib was virtually undamaged; in it, a small boy lay, fast asleep. On his forehead was a perfect, V-shaped scar. "V… for Voldemort…" James murmured.

"Yes. I'd suspected something like this would happen." A gravely voice said. They turned around to find the tall form of Albus Dumbledore standing in what remained of the door frame. "Sybil Trelawney has recently spoken a prophecy; it goes something like this: "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…" _he muttered. "Little Aiden must be the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord; he has been chosen to bring balance to the universe."

Lily stared up at the old man, shocked. "What does this mean, Albus?"

"Aiden has the power to defeat the Dark Lord, Lily. He is the chosen one, the One Above All, the Boy Who Lived." Dumbledore intoned.

James frowned. "WHAT?! He's defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? But he's just a baby!"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "He may be 'just a baby', but he's a very special baby, James."

* * *

><p>The procession of three left Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore led, carefully levitating Aiden's crib, followed by a shell-shocked James and a heartbroken Lily. The sun peeked over the edge of the cliffs, illuminating the rubble outside the house.<p>

Beneath the boulder, something stirred. Something powerful. Something primordial. Harry James Potter, the Master of Death, reformed, bit by bit, mending and stitching together with astonishing speed. Blood returned to the organs; the lungs inflated, the bones repositioned themselves. Flesh covered bone and skin covered flesh; the small boy stood, his eyes glinting in the dark air, hearty and whole.


	2. Chapter 1: The Train Ride

_10 years later…._

"He's a very… difficult child," the nurse said, shaking her head. "I'd advise you not to take him. He's very independent and extremely intelligent, but there's something quite queer about him… I can't put my finger on it…"

Albus Dumbledore sighed. "I run a school where queer things are expected of students."

The nurse gave him a blank look; Albus sighed again, pulling out his wand. "_Confundo._" The woman's eyes dulled; she stared at the Professor with a glazed look. The moment passed; she gave a start and blushed. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Professor. I must've dozed off! Where was I?"

"You were going to show me to Mr. Harry Evans, I believe."

"Oh, yes…"

She walked up a flight of stairs and into a long wing of rooms, closely followed by Dumbledore. She turned, then turned again, and they finally arrived at the room with the red-and-white door.

"Madam, would you please give us a moment of privacy?"

"Absolutely not! We have a strict policy-"

Albus hated to Confund anybody twice, but in this situation, it was a necessity. The woman left without another word.

He entered the room, closing the door behind him. And gasped.

The boy in front of him was a carbon copy of Tom Riddle; he had the same hair, the same handsome yet pale face, the same nose. The eyes were different, though- they were colored a striking emerald green. For a moment, neither made a move. "What is it?" the boy asked, breaking the silence. Dumbledore internally composed himself.

"I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster of a school for special children-"

"'Professor?' Don't kid with me. You're a director of an asylum, aren't you!?"

Dumbledore duly noted that the boy's reaction was the exact same as Tom Riddle's so many years before.

"No, Harry. I am a Professor at a school of Magic."

Harry looked at him funnily.

"That's magic, what I can do?"

"What can you do?"

"I can see things…" he muttered. "I can feel the air, the water, the matter. I can control it, bend it to my will. I can levitate things, crush things, bend metal with relative ease."

Dumbledore kept his composed mask- barely. Internally, his mind whirred- _An elemental!? Impossible! There has only been one elemental in history, and he died in 1342 B.C.! _

"-talk to snakes" the boy finished. Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie. "Sorry, what was that?"

The boy shot him an annoyed look. "I can talk to snakes."

Seeing Dumbledore's quizzical look, he quickly added, "Is that normal?"

"Yes, very normal, just very rare. At my school, you can learn to control your powers. You'll learn how to use them most efficiently."

The boy gave him a curious glance. "How can I join?"

_Interesting…the boy is a much kinder soul than Riddle. He didn't ask me to prove my powers, and hasn't stolen anything as of yet._ Dumbledore mused. "You are already enrolled; ever since the date of your birth, your name has been set in the Hogwarts Logbooks." Seeing Harry's confused glance, he elaborated. "Hogwarts is the name of the school. All you need to do is arrive at Platform 9 ¾ on August 23rd with your materials; everything else has been taken care of."

"And how do I get my materials?"

"I'll tell you a way to enter Diagon Alley, the magical equivalent of a muggle mall. Unless you want me to accompany you?"

He half expected the small boy to turn the offer down, but to his surprise, Harry answered, "I'd appreciate that, sir."

* * *

><p>Harry James Potter sat on the edge of his seat in compartment A32 of the Hogwarts Express, contemplating the events of the last 24 hours. He'd gone with Professor Dumbledore to buy his supplies, and had gotten a tawny owl whom he named 'Hedwig'. He'd also gotten a wand, books, robes, and a moleskin pouch. Truth to be told, most of the trip had been a blur; but he distinctly remembered the Professor with the white turban. He introduced himself as 'P-p-p-rofessor Q-quirrell'. He'd certainly been interesting to meet, but there was something about the man that didn't sit right with Harry. Perhaps it was the garlic smell, or his annoying stuttering, or his nervous manner…<p>

"He's a professor, Harry. Don't start thinking ill of your teachers before you even start school!" He chided himself. The door suddenly opened to reveal a lanky blond boy flanked by two hulking mounds of muscle. "I've heard Aiden Potter's on this train. Are you him?" Harry shook his head. "No. I'd be very interested to meet him, though." The boy sighed, shutting the door.

Harry heard the door to the compartment to his left open with a small squeak, heard Draco ask the same question. "Yes. What about it?" a voice drawled. "I'm Draco. Pleased to meet you." A snarl. "I've heard about you… you're one of those filthy Slytherins Dad keeps talking about!"

"Go away, you slimy snakes!" a higher, shriller voice screeched. Harry sighed, walking along the hallway to the other compartment. He found himself in the middle of a confrontation. Aiden Potter had his wand out and ready, poised to strike at the Slytherins. His companion, a redhead, also had his wand out; he looked brazenly at the three boys, quite unaware that he was holding the wrong end of the wand. The three Slytherins also had their wands out, pointed at the Gryffindors. Tension filled the air; or, rather, would've filled the air, had either side known any spells whatsoever.

Harry sighed. "Put the wands away. You're first years. You don't even know how to hold a wand properly, let alone cast a spell!"

Harry felt five pairs of eyes shift to him. "What do you know?" Aiden sneered. Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're holding your wand backwards." Aiden blushed, switching his wand around. The redhead did likewise.

"In any case, I would very much appreciate it if you lot" he gestured to the Slytherins, "could unclog the hallway. I am in dire need of a restroom." Surprisingly, they let him pass.


	3. Interlude: The Silver Mask

**A/N Read and Review!**

**_1 year earlier... _**

The large, silver train pulled into Sheffield Station at exactly 6:00 P.M., its gears grinding and groaning in protest. Metal struck metal; sparks flew from the tracks as the clamp caught the ground in one rapid movement. Friction slowed the Eagle Express to an uneasy halt.

The doors sprang easily open, and a tall, regal figure plodded down the staircase, closely followed by two hulking escorts. The trio picked their way across the unkempt lawn to the large Manor in the distance, the tall one leading, the two trailing behind in a perfect formation. Large, bolted chests floated out from behind them, lining behind the trio in single file.

Nobody spoke very much at all. The queer procession strolled up the hill; as they approached the manor, the tall one signaled with his hand. The group came to an immediate halt.

Lucius Malfoy pulled out his wand with a deft motion. He scanned the tall, regal mansion with a calculating eye. So THIS is the fabled Brimstone Manor! It was large- there was no doubting that- but not nearly as large as the myths claimed.

He spoke in a crisp voice: "Lucius Malfoy, representing the Death Eaters, requesting access to Brimstone Manor."

A moment of silence. And then- "Access granted."

The heavy, iron doors slid easily open to reveal an empty hallway rimmed by dim torches. The procession moved into the darkness of the hall; the doors closed with a muted thump.

In the middle of the room, cloaked by silken drapes, stood a large, golden throne. On that throne sat a small, cloaked figure, his face shielded by a silver mask. Assembled around him were a large group of small figures, each cloaked, each masked.

"What business does Voldemort have with us?" the silver-masked figure asked in an eloquent tone.

Lucius bowed his head. "Master Grünfeld, Lord Voldemort extends his greetings to you and your organization." It felt strange, bowing to a child, but it had been drilled into them many, many times- _never underestimate the Silver Mask; it may be the last thing you do. _

"We require your assistance in a matter of utmost importance; you see, there is a parcel at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We must retrieve this parcel at all costs; it has an item that is extremely valuable to us…"

"Hm…" the masked figure mused. "Allow me…"

Lucius was a trained Occlumens; in the art of shielding his mind, he was second only Severus Snape. He felt a slight brush on his mind and instantly prepared all of his shields. The child laughed. A sudden, intense jab filled his vision; he barely managed to ward it off. Then another. Then yet another. Hundreds of spiking needles drilled mercilessly against his shields; he cried out in agony, collapsing to the floor. His shields crumpled like cardboard.

The masked figure sat in quiet contemplation. "Hm… the Philosopher's Stone… yes, we could help with that… for a price, of course…"

Lucius gasped for air. The figure to his right spoke up-

"We have here 30 chestfuls of the finest silver."

"I will take that." A female voice said calmly. A small figure with a dark brown mask stepped forth; she wandlessly levitated the heavy chest away with contemptuous ease.

"Glad to do business with you." The Silver Mask spoke, smirking. "Rest assured- the Stone will be yours by the end of this year."

~oOo~

**Some time later...**

_The boy shot him an annoyed look. "I can talk to snakes." _

_ Seeing Dumbledore's quizzical look, he quickly added, "Is that normal?" _

_ "Yes, very normal, just very rare. At my school, you can learn to control your powers. You'll learn how to use them most efficiently." _

_ The boy gave him a curious glance. "How can I join?" _

_ Interesting…the boy is a much kinder soul than Riddle. He didn't ask me to prove my powers, and hasn't stolen anything as of yet. Dumbledore mused. "You are already enrolled; ever since the date of your birth, your name has been set in the Hogwarts Logbooks." Seeing Harry's confused glance, he elaborated. "Hogwarts is the name of the school. All you need to do is arrive at Platform 9 ¾ on August 23rd with your materials; everything else has been taken care of." _

_ "And how do I get my materials?" _

_ "I'll tell you a way to enter Diagon Alley, the magical equivalent of a muggle mall. Unless you want me to accompany you?" _

_He half expected the small boy to turn the offer down, but to his surprise, Harry answered, "I'd appreciate that, sir."_

The Silver Mask grinned. Dumbledore bought the ruse hook, line, and sinker.

**A/N Who is the Silver Mask? :) **


	4. Chapter 2: Sorting and Suspicions

The Sorting Hat nestled atop Harry's head, its brim covering the tips of his eyes.

He'd prepared for this, of course.

Hm… the Hat began. There is powerful Occlumency at work here…. oh, yes… what… what is this?!

Harry could feel the Hat's sentient mind; he reached out, throwing layers and layers of stifling mental blocks over its consciousness. The Hat gave a small squeak before being submerged entirely under layers of Legilimency.

To the casual onlooker, it would've looked as if the Hat relaxed; its tip sagged and its brim drooped. After a moment of quiet contemplation, the Hat gave its answer- "GRYFFINDOR!"

A smattering of polite applause. He made his way down to the Gryffindor table, a feeling of fierce triumph stirring in his stomach. He'd managed to subvert the Hat to his will. Step 1 of Plan Jewel Vitae was complete. The small boy sat among the Gryffindors and waited, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

~oOo~

"How did you get into Gryffindor!?" Aiden asked. "Everything about you screams Slytherin!"

"I don't know. Don't question me, question the Hat." Harry replied, stowing his luggage beneath his bunk.

Aiden sneered. "You'll never be a real Gryffindor! You're a snake, and you'll always be a snake!"

Harry laughed. "Maybe. Only time will tell."

He was sorely tempted to beat the crap out of the boy. A few cutting hexes and an Obliviation, and nobody would ever know…

Aiden must have seen Harry eyeing him dangerously; he backed away nervously towards the door frame.

"Run along, Aiden." Harry whispered, enjoying the boy's fear. Aiden looked at him, and, as if gathering his resolve, stood his ground. "I am a Gryffindor, and I'll never run away! Especially not from a snake like you!"

At this point, it was clear that the boy was prejudiced against all Slytherins- or anybody who seemed like one. Harry found himself struggling to keep a civil tongue. "All right…" he said in mock defeat. "Whatever."

Satisfied that he wasn't losing face, Aiden left.

Harry rolled his eyes. Gryffindors. Idiots, the lot of them.

~oOo~

The next morning, everything started out fairly well for Harry. He avoided Aiden and Ron, got dressed, and made his way down to dinner nearly an hour early. He liked earliness. Just seeing the entire Hall empty and vacant, with sunlight streaming gently through the gothic windows… he smiled genuinely for the first time since his arrival.

"Well, you're up early," a wizened voice said. Harry didn't so much as flinch. "Yes, Headmaster, I suppose I am."

Harry turned, and could tell that the older wizard was slightly taken aback. "May I ask… how did you know I was here?"

Harry smirked. "Sir, you left a distinctive magical trace just beyond the door. I may be only a first year, but I'd have to be a fool not to notice it."

Dumbledore hung his head, resigned. "Every few years there's a child like you…" he began. "Observant, charismatic, and the slightest bit power-hungry." He focused his blue eyes on Harry. "Year of 1932, Samantha Godwill. Year of 1935, Mathilda Greengrass. Year of 1942… Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Harry looked up at him with a blank expression. His face was devoid of emotion. "Thank you, sir." he responded politely.

Dumbledore looked at him for a little longer, studying him. He felt a slight brush against his Occlumency shields-

Harry was immediately on high alert. He forced his mind into the ten-layer stance, placing a wall of shields between Dumbledore and his mind.

The older man noticed this; his eyebrows furrowed. Harry felt the slight hand fade to nothing; his mind cleared.

"Harry…" he began. "I can see that you have some potential. If you'd like, I can tutor you alongside Mr. Aiden Potter…"

Harry immediately shook his head. "No thank you, Headmaster. I'd much rather have class with my friends."

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback. No student had ever refused his offer before! He quickly composed himself. "Very well, Mr. Evans. I'll see you at the opening banquet."

He left without another word.

Harry smirked. Dumbledore's 'tutoring sessions' would no doubt be an excuse to probe Harry's mind- something he had no intention of allowing. He turned on his heel and left for the other side of the Hall.

~oOo~

Dumbledore frowned. The boy was and a natural Occlumens, it seemed. It might be harder to glean information from Harry than he'd previously expected. He'd have keep a close watch over the boy from now on. A very, very close watch.

~oOo~

For the most part, breakfast passed by normally. Aiden didn't try anything fishy, which worried Harry. The boy clearly disliked him; but then again, he disliked all Slytherins. He was probably pulling a prank on that Goyle kid. Sighing, Harry returned to his cereal.

"Harry?" a female voice whispered.

Harry gave a start, then relaxed.

"Hermione! You've scared the crap out of me!" He exclaimed. Hermione ignored him. "I've made a breakthrough on my research on the Stone… we already know it's inside Hogwarts, but the question is- where is it? The castle is massive!"

Harry stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Do you remember Professor Dumbledore's beginning-of-the-term speech?"

Hermione looked offended. "Of course! I've committed it to memory."

Harry rolled his eyes. Typical Hermione. "He warned the students not to go to the third floor. That means the Stone must be hidden there… unless he's bluffing, and he's set a trap for anybody who dares set foot in the corridor. Unless, of course, he's double-bluffing, in which case it IS there."

Hermione snorted. "Come now, Harry. The old man isn't nearly that devious."

….Or is he?

Professor Dumbledore watched the exchange with some concern. He'd been eavesdropping on their conversation, and he didn't like what he heard- not at all. These children have been planted by Lord Voldemort to steal the Stone? It seemed unlikely, highly unlikely…

Hm….

Harry Evans left the Great Hall with a satisfied smile on his face. He headed down the corridor to the dungeons for Potions, casually strolling through the well-lit hall.

A moment later, he was joined by a blonde figure in dark, expensive clothing. "How did it go?" Draco Malfoy asked, his expression quizzical. Harry smirked. "The old fool bought the ruse hook, line, and sinker!"

Dumbledore frowned. He'd followed Harry out of the Hall, carefully trailing the boy under a disillusionment charm. He turned a corridor just in time to hear the boy mutter, "The old fool bought the ruse hook, line, and sinker!"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. Aha! They'd planned for him to overhear their conversation at breakfast! The entire thing was a ruse, a bluff! They were mere covers for the real thief!

The old Professor slinked back to the Hall, eager to share his findings.

"Is he gone?" Draco whispered, eyeing the walls suspiciously. Harry cracked a grin. "Yes, he is. He fell for the double-bluff. Part 2 of operation Jewel Vitae is now complete. If I'm correct, which I usually am, Dumbledore is getting quite paranoid and senile in his old age. He'll suspect us, naturally, but his main focus now is to catch the 'thief'. This leaves us some time for planning."

Draco nodded. "Aiden and Ron remain clueless. If all goes as planned, we'll have the Stone before the end of the year. Say, how did you know that he'd eavesdrop on us?"

"Intuition and logic. Everything thus far has been carefully planned. I told him about my parseltongue; this was so that he would be suspicious of me. He'll have kept a discreet eye on me; he'll want to see if I'm doing anything that I shouldn't be doing."

Draco nodded again. It seemed as if Master Evans had the entire situation under wraps. He smirked. Dumbledore had no idea what he was in for…

**A/N Thanks for reading! :) **

**I've had a ton of free time on my hands lately, so I've written quite a bit. **

**Thanks to Lunaz (guest) for reviewing :)**

**Next chapter is 1/2 way done. **


	5. Chapter 3: Potions

**A/N Thanks for reading! :) **

**Thanks for reviewing lunaz & BlackjackBJ :) **

_Flashback_

Harry traipsed over the shards of concrete and glass, his brow furrowed. Where were his parents?

He glanced over the rubble to see three cloaked figures rapidly receding in the distance.

A cold hand gripped his heart. They left him. They left him to die.

He stood there for quite a while, a barrage of emotion flying through his mind. First anger, then rage, then a horrible, abject terror…

They'd left him to die. They'd left him to die.

The words echoed through his mind, eliciting no recognition. His mother had never cared for him. She had simply used him to kill that evil being.

He'd been a tool all along in the midst of some larger machination. It made him sick.

Even at the tender age of 3, Harry was extremely intelligent- and extremely observant. He knew that there was nothing in Godric's Hollow left for him, not anymore. His very world, everything he'd ever known literally came crashing down upon him. In one night, he'd lost everything.

So perhaps it was time to start anew, to form his own family… a family that would remain loyal to all of its members, no matter what happened. A family of elite wizards that could wield TRUE magic, the magic he'd read about in the ancient books of Merlin.

He'd call his family… Brimstone.

_End Flashback _

"Mr. Potter… our new _celebrity_…" Professor Snape spat, his dark eyes honed on Aiden. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what would I get if I added the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Aiden glared back at him. "Who cares?" he said, quite loudly.

The Potions Master's eyes narrowed. "You don't know, do you, boy? Clearly, you haven't inherited any of your mother's brains."

Aiden turned tomato red.

Ron jumped to his feet. "What do you mean? You don't know anything! You're the stupid one!"

Snape's eyes narrowed considerably. "Detention, Mr. Weasley. Detention, Mr. Potter. My room tonight."

Ron opened his mouth to say more, but Harry silenced him with a wordless _silencio_. He'd had enough of the arrogant boy's antics. Hermione shot him an approving glance. He smiled.

Snape continued his lesson as if nothing had happened; Harry found himself quickly becoming more and more bored. He brought out his pen and absentmindedly scribbled over the pages, exchanging some lines for more effective methods…

"Professor Snape!" A reedy voice shouted. Harry looked up to see Ron pointing accusingly at him. "He's doodling in class!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Is that so… ten points from Gryffindor for being a tattletale, Weasley. And ten more for your… doodling! Let me see that!"

He snatched the book from Harry's hand. A small indignation rose in his chest; he forced it down, still glaring. Unbeknownst to the potions professor, small chunks of ice crystallized around his feet…

"Gaah!"

Snape slid half-way across the room on a carpet of thin ice; he hit the ground with a muted thump. Harry resisted the urge to laugh as he slowly picked himself up, glaring murderously.

"Detention, Potter!" he drawled, his voice murderous.

Aiden glared at him. "I didn't do that!"

"Yeah, he didn't!" Ron seconded.

"Another detention for lying to a Professor."

Harry buried his head in his hands. These two just couldn't shut up, could they?

"Professor Snape, may I have my book back?" Harry asked.

"No, Mr. Evans. Come see me after class."

_Oh, shit. _

~oOo~

_After class.. _

"So, Mr. Evans…" Professor Snape began. "What's this I hear about your doodling?"

"I don't understand. I wrote some notes. Is there a problem?" Harry said, his face deadpan.

"Hm…. let's see here…" Snape flipped to a page. "'Easier way is to crush almanide on the sides, excretes more juice.' Where did you hear that?"

Harry shrugged. "It's common sense, isn't it? Chopping it will only give the sliver of juice; crushing is like squeezing a sponge. Only a fool wouldn't realize that."

Snape analyzed him with cold, dark eyes.

"I see…" he finally muttered. "You may leave."

Harry nodded and grabbed at his textbook-

"No."

"I'm sorry?"

"I… I would like to take a look at your… observations…" Snape said. "I will return it to you tomorrow."

Harry gave a curt nod and left.

Snape watched him go. _Interesting boy…_ he mused. _He made the same observations I made when I was in my 6th year… Dumbledore will be quite interested to hear about this… _

~oOo~

"How did it go?"

Harry grinned.

"Not too bad, actually. Have you found anything new?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I wish I had another researcher; the work would get done much faster…"

She looked pointedly at Harry, who shrugged.

"I suppose Neville… or maybe Draco-"

Hermione shook her head quite vehemently. "No! Not Draco. Anybody BUT Draco." Harry laughed. "Alright, ask Neville to help you."

Hermione nodded.

"I will."

She stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

He walked on for a couple of minutes in absolute silence, meandering about, waiting… If the agreed upon-time was kept, a certain professor would round the corner in 3...2...1.

Quirrel stumbled across the corridor, his face red, his wand in hand.

"I-I do hope… Oh. It's you." The forced stutter evaporated into a cold resolution. Harry smiled.

"Yes. Me. I called you here to give you a status update."

"You are sure this is secure?" a coarse voice prompted.

Harry nodded. "Of course. I am no fool. No meandering headmaster will come knocking… at least, not anytime soon.

Quirrel nodded, satisfied.

"You do realize what is guarding the stone…?"

"Yes. Of course. We have found a way around it. Quite simple, really, once you know the trick- it falls asleep when it hears music. As for the chess game… your friend can help with that."

"...Very well." The professor nodded.

"The Troll… that should be simple. The brooms will be harder; try _accio finite_. There will be a stunt by Snape, no doubt… Your friend can also help you on that one… What else is there? Ah, and of course. The final challenge. Even with research groups working around the clock, we've been unable to find the solution. That one… you're on your own.

The barrier will break in five seconds."

Quirrel nodded again, his facade quickly reappearing.

"I-I shall see you so-soon, eh?"

Student and professor walked away in opposite directions.


	6. Chapter 4: The Arctic Rune

**A/N Thanks for 65 followers! Reviews make me happy too :) Thanks to all those people that reviewed.**

Harry woke to the sound of knocking. Harsh, incessant knocking. Groaning groggily, he stood and whipped the door open. Brilliant moonlight filled the room; he frowned. "Who is it?"

"It's me."

Hermione's voice rang through the dorm. Harry shot furtive glances at his roommates. They were all still asleep.

"Hush!" he hissed. "Don't wake them!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Gryffindors sleep like stones. Nothing except perhaps the smell of bacon can wake them up. That's beside the point. I have made a breakthrough…"

Harry was instantly awake. "Really? Good."

He followed the lithe form down the stairs and into the corridor, casting a disillusionment charm on himself as he did so.

"What is it?"

"The Mirror. Dumbledore may be paranoid, but his magic is… strong. It's blocked by several major spells. I've only just had time to scour the area with a sensor; it's so well guarded."

She shuddered. "Mcgonagall caught me, actually, scanning the bottom of the fourth floor bathroom- that's a floor above the mirror, by the way- I had to pass off the baton as lipstick."

Harry glared at her. "Hermione. You know we must be careful. The Mcgonagall shenanigan could've foiled our whole plan!"

"I know. I'll check the perimeter next time-"

"Hermione. There will be no next time."

"But-"

"Neville will take care of the scannings from now on. You're focused solely on research."

Hermione pouted a childish pout. Harry sighed. "Look, this is a high profile job. If we mess this up, we'll be sent to Azkaban. We need the most cautious people doing the important jobs."

"Alright. Anyway, an Inuit arctic rune could disable the spells…"

Harry stopped mid-step.

"Inuit… arctic… rune?" he hissed, his voice soft.

"Er…"

"And who will draw up such a complicated design?"

"I will." Hermione said, miffed now. "It is within my capabilities."

"WITHIN YOUR CAPABILITIES?!" Harry exploded. "THAT RUNE HAS NOT BEEN ATTEMPTED FOR 200 YEARS FOR GOOD REASON!"

"Hush! Don't wake them!" Hermione parroted, her voice nonchalant. "I can do it. I HAVE done a Sacred fire rune before, you know. I only need to crack the parchment and imbue a line of magic to one side. Done."

"It isn't that simple- and you know it! One would need to sacrifice a tremendous amount of life force- and that's assuming the rune works well. No. Out of the question."

Hermione sighed. "There is no other way, Harry."

"Yes, there is. We just need to find it." Harry said, his voice firm. "Now what is it you wanted to show me?"

"I… I'm currently in the middle of the rune, actually…"

Harry's eyes widened.

"Where?"

"In the second floor girl's bathroom-"

And Harry was off, sprinting down the corridor.

"Harry! HARRY!"

Second floor corridor.. second floor corridor… Aha!

He skidded to one side and threw open the door, his eyes wild. Hermione trailed closely behind.

"What are you doing!?"

A bare piece of parchment lay smoldering on the floor, its edges burnt. White lines glowed with immense power, radiating harsh cold.

"How long has it been since you left this?" Harry said, his voice soft. Dangerously soft.

"Perhaps 20 minutes…"

"Hermione, you fool! It's on the brink of exploding! Hasn't your runes professor taught you anything?! Never leave a rune until it's finished!"

"But…" Hermione muttered, crestfallen. "I.. I just wanted to show you…"

Her words fell on deaf ears.

Harry crouched down to examine the parchment. He looked up again, his eyes grim. "I can contain this… Hermione blockade the door!"

"But… why?"

"JUST DO IT!"

A sheet of ice crystallized over the hinges, freezing the door in place.

Harry concentrated.

He could feel the raw energy radiating off the rune in massive spikes… with an infinite determination, he flexed his mind, pushing back the cold.

Jagged bits of energy cut his hands and arms as he forced the cold lower and lower…

The runes dimmed- slowly at first, then quicker and quicker until the white light faded to a black line.

Harry collapsed, his body smoldering. A cry of indignation rang through the air… and then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.

~oOo~

"_Enervate._"

A strange sensation gripped him; with a massive tug, he was forced back into the realm of consciousness.

"Her-hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Is.. is it done?"

"Yes, it is… You scared me for a second there, you know that?"

Harry chuckled feebly. "No, I mean has it made the transition to an Arctic Rune?"

Hermione grinned, wiping tears of relief from her eyes. "Yes. For the first time in nearly 200 years, the Arctic Rune has been re-drawn."

~oOo~

"I don't believe it."

"Neither can I, actually."

The eight masked figures faced each other in a perfect circle.

"The arctic rune… drawing it was a huge risk."

"We are aware. But what's done is done."

"Yes… alright. We can work with this."

Three loud taps sounded through the small room; the eight turned to face a small figure in a silver mask, seated uncomfortably in a wooden chair.

"When can we take the Stone?"

"Perhaps a week, maybe two if we're slow."

He stroked his chin. "Good. Draco?"

The masked figure nodded. "Yes?"

"Gather your followers. We unleash the Chamber tonight."

A collective gasp filled the room; Draco, however, kept his emotionless mask.

He nodded, bowed, and left the room.

For the first time since the meeting commenced, the Silver Mask smirked.

~oOo~

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Harry drawled.

"Yes, mister Evans." Dumbledore's coarse voice boomed. "May I ask.. why were you doodling in class?"

"Exchanging inefficient ideas for more modern ones can hardly be considered doodling, sir."

Dumbledore frowned. "Be that as it may, it was still doodling."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He knew the old man was senile, but this….

He laughed. Dumbledore frowned again.

"Excuse me?"

"S-sorry, sir."

Internally, Harry smirked. The old fool! As if he could assign a detention because of something so trivial.

"Harry, I deem it necessary to give you a detention."

"Why is this?"

"Because you were doodling in class. I would like you to report to Professor Snape's room at exactly 6:27- not a minute more, not a minute less."

Internally, Harry gave a start. 6:27 was the arranged meeting time for the opening of the chamber! Could it be that Dumbledore knew of the plan?

Externally, he kept his composed mask.

"Very well, sir."

He swept out of the room without another word.

~oOo~

"Hermione."

"Yes, Harry?"

He cast a _muffliato_ on the two of them before continuing, his voice noticeably softer. "There may be a traitor in our midst."

Hermione flinched. "What? Impossible!"

Harry nodded grimly. "It certainly is possible. Somebody must be leaking information to the old man; how else was he to know the exact meeting time for the Opening?"

Hermione swallowed. "Alright… I'll inform the rest of the council."

"See that you do. We must root out this person as quickly as possible."


	7. Chapter 5: Betrayal

**A/N Thanks to all those who stuck around to this point! I think I'll start the 'final plot arc' or whatever sometime soon. **

Hermione watched Harry's thin form disappear down the hallway and sighed, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Did everything go alright?"

She whipped around, saw the cloaked figure, and relaxed. "Yes. Yes. He didn't try any Legilimency, or anything of the sort. I don't think he suspects me."

"Good… good…. and what is this business I hear about a certain Arctic rune?"

Hermione took a shuddering breath. "I… I tried to assassinate him, it didn't work. If I tried anything funny, a Priori Incantatem would surely have me in Azkaban… the Rune was the only thing I could think of."

"It's defective, I take it?"

"Of course. We can't have them carrying out a working ice bomb, can we, now?"

A forced chuckle. "No, of course not, my dear. You may go."

Hermione turned to leave, with an infinite reluctance. The cloaked figure frowned. "What is it?"

"This is all to prevent death, right?"

"Yes, of course. This is all for the greater good."

~oOo~

"Reporting for detention."

Professor Snape looked up from the sloppily written essay he was grading and frowned.

"What do you want, Mr. Evans?" he drawled.

"I have detention."

"Really… for what, exactly?"

"I doodled in class."

Snape gave a visible start. Albus was penalizing this child for making intelligent observations?

"Ah… ah, yes, alright. Scrub those cauldrons over there. No magic."

Harry gave a curt nod and sped off down the dungeon staircase.

Snape couldn't help but shake his head. What was this all about? He resolved to find out.

Harry knelt before the cauldron, took out his utensils, and began cleaning. It was a horribly monotonous work; he soon found his mind wandering.

_**Flashback**_

_4 years ago… _

A long, drawn-out cry rang through the street of Ajate Terrace. The small figure in the dark cloak stepped swiftly over the threshold, his eyes keen and alert.

An even longer cry tore out of Number 2, Ajate Terrace, accompanied by a loud _THWACK!_

Harry frowned. With practiced caution, he inched towards the house, his eyes trained on the second story window. Harsh, loud words drifted through the panes.

"You no good piece of shit!"

Another thwack.

Another cry.

A terrible anger rose up from inside of him. He gripped the stone walls and climbed, reaching up to the window. He peeked inside.

A fat, red-faced man stood beside a small, bruised boy, his belt in hand. Harry frowned at the scene.

"Your mother died because of you, you know that?"

Yet another thwack. Harry winced.

The man raised his hand to unleash another beating. Harry concentrated, throwing massive bolts of energy through the air…

The man looked up, surprised, to find his hands glued to the wall. Ice, thickening ice, spread along his body; he shrieked and struggled, but the shards held firm. He swore, a loud, ugly, drawn-out word- up until the ice covered his mouth and his nostrils.

Purple began to fill his face. His eyes grew frantic; his hands, still free, writhed in their icy handcuffs. He struggled for air and threw his entire body weight upwards, managing to break the ice's hold for a split second. A massive gasp filled the air as oxygen rushed back into his lungs; then the ice closed over his face, thickening, multiplying into a death trap of massive proportions-

"PLEASE STOP!"

Harry froze, alarmed, at the child's outburst.

The ice thinned over the now unconscious man's face, allowing shallow breathing.

"why?"

"I… please don't kill my daddy…please… "

Tears shone on his pudgy face.

"Why?" Harry repeated. "What has he done for you?"

"I…"

"Here." he reached out a hand. The child, as if on some foreign impulse lunged out to grab it. "I'll take you somewhere where nobody can ever hurt you, ever again. Say, what's your name?"

"Neville. Neville Longbottom"

_**End Flashback**_

~oOo~

**Room of Requirement. 4:00 A.M..**

"There has been a minor setback; Dumbledore has gleaned information on our plan. I trust Hermione has informed you of this?"

The council members shook their hooded masks. Neville spoke up. "No… she hasn't."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Alright then, you know now. There is a traitor in our midst."

A collective gasp rang through the assembled. Harry's eyes narrowed. "Use thorough Legilimency on your second in commands. Find out as much about their recent activities as you can. Our next meeting will be at 2:00 A.M. tomorrow. Dismissed."

The council members scattered.

Harry buried himself into the sofa and sighed, rubbing his eyebrows.

"_Petrificus Totalus_."

A sudden, icy palm caressed his body; he found himself quite unable to move.

"I- I'm sorry, Harry…"

_No. Surely not._

The chubby face of Neville Longbottom peered over the sofa. "I… I can't let you take the stone."

Disbelief. Shock and disbelief filled his body. Neville Longbottom of all people?! His best friend was the traitor? Impossible. Impossible. He'd always been a mild, useful boy…

"Harry… what you want to do, what you want to achieve will return You-Know-Who to power, and I… I can't allow that. I'm sorry. _Sectumsempra!_"

Dark magic lashed out at the stunned boy; Harry resisted the urge to scream as his stomach was ruthlessly torn open.

Tingling. Gentle tingling, then fiercer and fiercer consumed his body; sparks of light stitched the wound together. He could feel his ruptured artery reforming, rebuilding itself…

Neville watched in horror as his victim miraculously healed.

"What… what are you?!"

Hatred. A sudden, burning hatred ripped through his mind, forcing the shock to one side. He could feel his icy bonds; with an infinite force of will, he crushed the chains.

"_Avada Kedavra_."

Harry leapt to one side as the emerald-green light struck the spot where he'd been, inscribing angry scorch marks onto the sofa. His wand leapt to his hands in an instant. _EXPELLIARMUS!_

He watched as Neville's wand soared through the air; he caught it with his left hand. "Treachery!" he breathed, his voice low. "Treachery!"

The disarmed boy's eyes grew wide with fright; he turned and ran, struggling to make it to the door.

He was struck down before he could take his first step.

"Neville."

He leaned over the small boy, his eyes filled with a horrible hatred. "I'd never have guessed YOU would be the one to betray me. Foolish boy!"

A small tear formed in the corner of his left eye; he brushed it away with the back of his hand.

"For this, you shall pay. I will have to make an example of you."

The leather boot lashed out, sending the immobilised boy sprawling.

"_Obliviate._"

~oOo~

_Minutes before… _

"_Confundo._"

Hermione watched as Neville's once-bright eyes dulled and slid from focus.

"You will betray Harry Evans."

"I… I will betray Harry Evans."

"Good. Now act normal. The meeting's about to begin."

She watched, bored, as Harry made passing remarks about nothing in particular. At the sound of 'dismissed!' she ran outside, cast a disillusionment charm on herself, and strolled back in.

She arrived just in time to witness the drama.

"... for this, you shall pay."

Hermione watched, slightly guilty, as Harry wiped the boy's memory. What a waste of talent… she shook her head. No. Don't think like that. It is all for the greater good.

**A/N Ooh! Hermione covered her tracks 0_0. What will happen? :) And why does Harry have a natural regen ability?**

**Some people may have noticed the absence of Aiden and Ron in the recent chapters. They'll be back soon... **

**Thanks to all those wonderful people who reviewed! Free virtual cookies to everybody! **

**If you couldn't tell, I'm feeling unusually cheery :). **


	8. FINALE Read Author Note

**A/N I've kind of lost interest in this story, and the last chapter is mostly for those who crave closure. This is a 1-chappie **

**climax. **

**This chapter starts, just like the last chapter, with a secret meeting! By now the identity of Hermione's employer should be clear. CLIMAX CHAPTER! :) **

"We engage in two hours." the words bounced back within the sound shield, creating an eerie echo that reverberated through the halls. Hermione shivered. "Sir.. are you sure? Shouldn't we prepare for longer, or-"

A harsh, rasping voice cut her off. "No. It must be tonight. We must intervene before it is too late."

The small girl gulped. "Ah… that is nice and all, but he is powerful. Taking him might not be easy."

The cloaked figure nodded. "We have accounted for that."

"And what is my part in all this?"

The cloaked figure and the man with the rasping voice looked at each other; then, in unison- "We no longer require your services, Ms. Granger. We cannot have you going around and blabbing our plan to our good friend Mr. Evans, can we, now?"

"Wha-what do you mean? I-"

Her stuttering abruptly cut off as the pair of wands turned in her direction. "No- no! Please! I can do research, I'm good at that-"

A loud bang. An ear-splitting scream.

Hermione Granger lay forever immobilized upon the cold, hard marble, her eyes blank and unseeing, a large wound staining her shirt a crimson red. The last of her scream died in her throat.

Albus Dumbledore sniffed. "_Evanesco_."

Water molded back into its source; the body and its parts vanished in a puff of dark smoke.

The old wizard cleaned the blood off of his wand; the remnants of the blood smeared on his cloak. "It was a pity… but we did have to tie up the loose ends, now didn't we? For the greater good."

"For the greater good." the rasping voice agreed.

"I shall call him now. Be careful; we can't afford to fail this."

~oOo~

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" the dark-haired youth said, his voice neutral. "Something concerning Hermione?"

The wizened man looked around his armchair. "I know about the Brimstone."

A moment of silence. And then-

Harry lashed out with his left hand; ice cracked and sprouted up the armchair, threatening to overturn the table. In a flash, the old man had vanished; his slender form reappeared beyond the portraits, his eyes ablaze. Bonds, hundreds of thousands of invisible bonds lashed through the air; Harry screamed and struggled as they entangled around him, each trying to hold him.

Ice met ice in a clash of epic proportions; shards of sleets hailed from the heavens, shattering against Dumbledore's golden shield. Harry roared again and a massive ball of ice crystallized in the center of the room, magnifying in size and strength…

The sphere exploded into a thousand shards of cutting death. Dumbledore barely managed to deflect the blades; they thudded into his golden shield, cracking the magical film. Icicles protruded from the ceilings at odd angles.

He instantly felt hundreds of grips slide from his body; he glanced up. Most of the Hogwarts Headmasters sat deep in concentration, clearly struggling to restrain him…

Chunks of ice gouged the ceiling into bits, ripping apart the portraits. He felt the mass of arms release him from their grasps, slowly at first, then all at once.

"Harry!" Dumbledore roared, his voice echoing loudly above the din. "I shall give you one chance to surrender!"

The boy narrowed his eyes. "Or else what?"

A mass of force slammed into him from the right; he was thrown through the air by a mound of liquid. He slammed into the frame. He could feel a rib crack.

Harry spat; blood, a mass of blood flowed out of his mouth. He grinned. "Dumbledore, you fool!"

The water instantly froze into a thick, white film. "I control all ice!" The ice solidified into hundreds of hands; and this time, they cracked the shield. Dumbledore roared as they held him against the wall. A thin, fractured piece held itself against his throat.

Dumbledore, surprisingly, laughed. "Harry… It is a pity that your efforts will have all been for nothing…"

He continued to speak even as the icy blade pressed harder against him. "For… I know something that you don't know…"

"And what is that?"

"Grindelwald…"

Harry turned with the speed of a viper and lashed out with his wand; but if Harry was fast, this man had the speed of lightning. A rough hand grabbed his wrist and wrenched it to one side; he screamed as he felt the bone break. With a callous foot, the figure bore down on Harry's wand; the phoenix feather snapped in half.

Cold, hard wood pressed against his throat. A wand.

Harry looked up to see a grizzled face peeking behind a bookshelf. "We've got you now, _boy._ Release Dumbledore."

The ice crystals were unrelenting. "RELEASE HIM!" Grindelwald screamed. His words were accompanied by a sharp jab to the throat.

Sharp ice melted into water; the liquid sloshed and seeped into the floor. Dumbledore stood, clutching the table for balance, and sneered.

"Boy…" he muttered, his voice low. "You will pay for that."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HERMIONE?!" Harry shouted.

The old man smiled devilishly. "Oh, you didn't know? I murdered her."

He tossed his still blood-stained cloak to the floor. "See that patch right there? I slit her throat; that's artery blood. She died begging for mercy…"

His words meant nothing to Harry. Nothing. Hermione… dead? Impossible. Surely not. Hermione, who had been like a sister to him. Hermione, who'd helped him and saved his life. A deep, coarse hatred filled his heart, blocking away all logical reasoning. Hermione. Dead. Hermione. Dead.

The words repeated themselves like some sick mantra…

Strange. Everything had suddenly become red-shifted.

_Crack. Crack. Crack._

The floors glowed a sudden, intense ice blue; the two men screamed and fell, clutching at their throats. Ice spiked out from all over their bodies, racing up their spines in large waves.

A white films roared into existence; it raced up the walls, coating everything in a horrible ice. Dumbledore screamed for the last time as his very blood froze and cracked.

It was wonderful.

Harry wondered idly how much water was in a human body. Was it 70%? 80? He didn't care. His sole aim in life now was to cause as much pain as humanly possible to the duo.

He screamed as his irises sparked and crystallized; Dumbledore watched in horror as the liquid in his eyes cut into his pupils. Long, thin chains of frost pelted at his body from the inside; but Harry would not kill him. No. Dumbledore did not deserve the luxury of death.

A thin tongue of ice, the remains of the small intestine, protruded from out his mouth; it looked alarmingly like an oversized tongue. Harry watched in apathy as a thick layer of sleet raced up his body; the ice would forever preserve the man in a state of eternal agony.

It was in ways the cruelest and most satisfying of sculptures.

Grindelwald stared, wide-eyed, at the sculpture that had once been his accolade; he limped to the door, struggling to remain silent-

"You."

The one word made Grindelwald's blood run cold. He hobbled ever quicker to the doorway…

_Thump._

The Dark wizard hit the floor with a muted impact. A lone needle had pierced through the side of his heart, clogging up the arteries and sealing blood flow.

A second needle had pierced his brain.

It was a merciful death.

**A/N Believe it or not, that was the climax. It went by very fast, I know 0_0. **

**In a real story, this definitely wouldn't have sufficed. In a real story, I'd have Grindelwald escape to summon some sort of stronger ally, somebody who could give Harry a real fight. But… **

**In all truth, I've been focusing my energies on new ideas lately. My interest in this story is about 25% of what it had been. Hence why I'll wrap it up right now. Added this chapter just for those who want closure. **

**Other than that, thanks for reading! :) Free virtual cookies to everyone! **


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